


arrogant bastard

by ivefoundmygoldfish (melonpanparade)



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/ivefoundmygoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has a habit of playing the hero when Harry's safety is involved, and Harry can't understand why.</p><p>Prompt: “I can’t bend my arm.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	arrogant bastard

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this tumblr meme](http://merlahad.tumblr.com/post/116722851918/whump-meme-send-me-a-pairing-and-a-line-of). Teen+ rating because our protagonists are excellent potty mouths.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Harry wheezes, short of breath from dragging Merlin to relative safety. A quick glance around the bare shelter shows that there won’t be sufficient resources to tend to Merlin’s wounds, but at least they’ll be safe for a while.

Outside, another grenade explodes. A dust cloud rises in the far distance.

It’s probably Lancelot; he’s always enjoyed doing things with a dramatic flair. However, Lancelot isn’t the only one with a taste for drama, Harry thinks, pinning Merlin with a hard look, demanding an answer.  

“Making sure you don’t get your sorry ass kicked out there.”

“So you had yours kicked instead?” Harry props Merlin up against the stone wall, loosening his grip when he notices Merlin’s pained expression. “This is becoming a bad habit.”

Merlin shrugs. “It worked, didn’t it? He’s incapacitated.”

Harry scowls. As usual, Merlin is correct. Had he maintained his position for just a second longer, he would undoubtedly be worse off than Merlin is now.

“Just had to be a fucking hero, didn’t you?” Harry mutters, casting a discerning eye over Merlin’s form. “Your wounds need to be cleaned, but we don’t have the luxury of water. Damn it. The last thing we want on top of this is an infection.”

There are surface wounds along Merlin’s right arm, mostly grazes rather than deep lacerations, sustained after pushing Harry out of gunshot range and taking the brunt of the fall, yet Harry is more concerned about the rapid swelling and bruising around the elbow.

Merlin follows Harry’s gaze, brows furrowing as he tries to lift his arm. “I can’t bend my arm.”

“There’s a high possibility your elbow is broken. Here, let me...”

Nodding, Merlin shifts so all of his weight is transferred to his left side, arranging his right arm so it remains elevated without any further stress to his body. Harry feels about for any further abnormalities, distinctly aware that his touch is much too tender to be completely clinical. His hand brushes over Merlin’s hand twice—accidental at first, but purposeful and lingering the next. Harry frowns. “Your hand is too cold.”

They both know that indicates a possible sign of nerve damage. What they don’t know is even worse: whether the resulting nerve damage may be temporary or permanent.

“Bloody hell, Merlin. Who knows how many months you’ll be off duty because of these injuries?”

“It doesn’t matter. The other option was you dead.”

“You couldn’t be sure—”

“—and I couldn’t be sure that you’d survive either,” Merlin snaps, pulling away from Harry’s touch. “Because you’re an arrogant bastard who doesn’t look twice before rushing headlong into things; because you think you’re infallible but, surprise, Harry fucking Hart: you’re _not_ , and so I’m always scared shitless—”

Horror flashes across Merlin’s face the very moment he realises how much he’s let slip. His mouth clamps shut, jaw set in that typically stubborn manner of his, eyes firmly fixed on a point on the stone wall, well away from Harry’s gaze.

Harry blinks.

Processes Merlin’s uncharacteristic outburst; runs it over and over through his mind.

And then he laughs—a full, hearty laugh when he finally realises that Merlin’s insulting tirade is actually the fiercest ‘I love you’ he’s ever received in his life.

“I fail to see what’s so funny,” Merlin growls, but his gruffness can’t hide the way his ears are bright red with embarrassment.

Mindful of Merlin’s injuries, Harry shuffles around so he’s in Merlin’s line of sight again. Amusement tips the corners of his mouth upwards into a smile of fond exasperation.

How had they been so bloody stupid?

“It is funny,” Harry says, choosing his next words carefully. “Because I was under the impression that _you’re_ the arrogant bastard, the one who doesn’t look twice before rushing headlong into things, the one who thinks they’re infallible, and the one who always makes me scared shitless…” Harry takes a deep breath, and then forges onwards, finishing off what Merlin had failed to say earlier. “Because I don’t know what I’d do if you died.”  

A moment of silence passes, and then Merlin snorts. “Well then, aren’t we a couple of idiots.”

Harry nods, the smile finding its way back on his face again. “Quite the understatement.”

Percival’s voice crackles in their earpieces. “Percival to Galahad and Merlin, come in.”

“Galahad here. We’re taking shelter in block D. Merlin is in need of immediate medical assistance.”

“Our final targets have been immobilised. Can you make it to the rendezvous point?”

“Affirmative. Galahad out.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Harry says, helping Merlin up with a proffered hand. “And this time, you’d better not pull any of your hero shit on me.”

“Not a chance,” Merlin replies loftily.

“Arrogant bastard.”

“Right back at you.”

 


End file.
